


Statistically Speaking

by ladytiresias



Category: Persona 4
Genre: F/M, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:46:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2486723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladytiresias/pseuds/ladytiresias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various Investigation Team members react poorly to Souji's open and frequent discussion of Persona 4's gameplay mechanics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Statistically Speaking

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to [this](http://badx2bathhouse.livejournal.com/857.html?thread=2205529#t2205529) badx2bathhouse prompt.

Souji has been staring at nothing for an unnervingly long period of time, grip slack on the hilt of his katana and the fingers of his free hand twitching every so often.

“Well, I mean, it’s not like he doesn’t do this _all the time_ ,” Yosuke stage whispers to Chie, whose hands, Yukiko suspects, may been Krazy Glued to her hips, given how long she’s been standing in said posture, occasionally shifting from side to side as she stands on one foot or the other. “It’s just…it’s what he does, I guess?”

“Well, he could stand to do it less often, is all I’m saying,” Chie replies, not even bothering with a fake whisper. “If we added up all the time he’s spent looking at…whatever, _just today_ , we could probably have saved Kanji by now. And then gotten dinner. And then _eaten_ dinner —”

“I think he just moved,” Yukiko breaks in.

Chie turns to stare at Souji for several seconds, then looks back at Yukiko with a sour expression, shaking her head. “I think you’re just seeing things, Yukiko.”

“Maybe it was an optical illusion?” Yosuke quips, then winces, probably because Yukiko can already feel her shoulders shaking from the laughter she’s barely suppressing. “Oh, god, don’t start. Or wait, maybe do start, and that’ll wake him up!”

“Or maybe a kick to the head will,” Chie says sourly, and Yukiko starts laughing for real, sharp and loud.

Souji remains motionless, save for the way his fingers occasionally twitch.

—

“So, Souji, are you ready for today’s training?” Chie asks. She’s practically _thrumming_ with energy; she ran from home to the shopping district to meet him at the usual place, and the feeling of hot sweat on her skin and the rhythm of her breathing has her all tingly. Not in a weird way or a sexy one, just in a _I just ran half a mile and I want to run a few more_ way. Though, she knows herself well enough by now that it’s a little bit the sexy way, too. She also knows she’s probably beaming at him. Hopefully he’s not creeped out by it.

Souji shuffles awkwardly. It’s a weird stance to see him take; her leader — the _team’s_ leader, Chie corrects herself mentally, still tender enough from the way her Shadow talked all those weeks ago to worry about getting too possessive — has always been firm and decisive. For a few seconds, though, he definitely waffles around, not quite looking at her and shifting his posture like he’s uncomfortable or he really needs to pee. Eventually, he sighs and looks her straight in the eye. “Actually, I was thinking that maybe we should stop these training sessions altogether?” he says. Of course, it takes her a while to realize that that’s what he’s saying; for the first few moments afterward, all Chie can remember hearing after he opened his mouth is rocks falling and crops failing and underpaid martial arts film extras dying as noisily and hammily as possible.

When her brain is finished catching up, she gapes at him for a while, then says, “What? Why?” Possibilities run through her head: she’s been coming on too strong; he’s creeped out by the fact that she’s interested in him _at all_ ; her fitness regimen is just a tad hardcore for him; running just isn’t his thing.

Instead he says, “Well, I was just thinking that there are probably more advantageous ways for us to spend our time. Statistically speaking.”

She stares at him for a few seconds, because that…wasn’t what she was expecting. “What?”

“Well,” he elaborates, “I’ve noticed that neither of us receives any measurable benefit from our time spent working out in the real world, either in terms of numeric level or even basic statistical changes. So I believe a more reasonable use of our collective free time outside the TV would be to focus on other pursuits relevant to our social statistics. Like folding envelopes. Or crafting origami cranes.”

Rocks falling, crops failing, and underpaid martial arts film extras dying _et cetera_. Only this time, the confusion doesn’t resolve itself. Chie just turns around and starts running in place. “Just try to keep up,” she says, and sets off. After a sigh from behind her, Chie eventually hears a familiar rhythm of footfalls behind her, and resolves to forget that this little talk ever happened.

—

When she first walked into Souji’s room, Rise was a little distracted by how, bizarrely, it was both way too clean and ridiculously messy. There were messes, but they were _contained_ ; a standing army of model robots were standing in assembly next to a half-empty jar of tiny origami stars on top of his bookshelf, and dozens of unsealed — and were those _handmade_? — envelopes were spread in a collapsed pile around his table. It didn’t look like a boy’s room, or at least, not what Rise had assumed a boy’s room would look like. The closest thing to porn she could catch a glimpse of — and she had been looking, if unobtrusively — was a slightly _disturbingly_ thorough-looking collection of vampire erotica. Overall, the room was a combination of endearing and creepy.

Now, though, the only things creeping are her hands up Souji’s firm, muscular torso. She can say with actual certainty that he has the figure of a Greek god, as he’s summoned a handful of them in the TV world. He practically radiates heat. She wonders if she does too, if he’s going to unbutton her jacket and find out. With his hands. Or his tongue. She isn’t feeling picky or particular at the moment.

Souji’s hand slides up the inside of her thigh as he leans in closer and her fingers lace together behind his neck. His thumbnail keeps catching on the fabric of her stockings until his hand hits bare flesh. She turns red at how wet she can feel herself getting, and goes absolutely scarlet when she realizes how high her skirt is bunched up, and that he can see just how wet she is for himself. Then they’re kissing, and his tongue is wet and hot and his fingers are teasing at the edge of her panties. His other hand can’t decide if it wants to be on either of her tits or cupping the side of her face; Souji seems to settle on the latter as he pulls away from the kiss, smiles at her, and says: “I’m pleased to say that we seem to have reached the tenth and final rank in our Social Link, Rise. Previous results indicate that this means you are likely to accept my proposal that we engage in relations of the sexual sort.”

She stares at him, then moves her hands from his neck to his shoulders. She takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Her eyes flicker over to the vampire smut on his bookshelf, just beneath the dozen or so model robots, then back to his face.

“Does this mean,” he asks, still smiling, “that you are ready to begin coitus?” Oblivious to her hands tensing on his shoulders, he continues, “if not, we could make excellent use of your remaining time here by studying to increase our respective Knowledge statistics.”

She shoves him off the futon.


End file.
